


bend me, break me (any way you need me)

by dahhhmer



Category: Columbine - Fandom, Historical Criminals RPF, True Crime - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Consensual Non-Consent, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, Feminization, Humiliation, M/M, Rape Roleplay, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:22:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28714245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dahhhmer/pseuds/dahhhmer
Summary: When Dylan presses on his bladder a little, Eric quickly goes still, thighs pressing together.
Relationships: Eric Harris/Dylan Klebold
Comments: 6
Kudos: 39
Collections: let's break the internet





	bend me, break me (any way you need me)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thisishardcore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisishardcore/gifts).



> Man, I dunno. You clicked on it. I don't care anymore. I'm not 100% happy with this but I'm tired of looking at it.
> 
> Set in the same AU & at some vague point after the first two fics in this collection. If you're confused, read Reb's notes on those first, I'm lazy. Consensual non-consent is mentioned and explicitly referred to as rape.
> 
> Titled after I Think I'm Paranoid by Garbage. Barely edited. Sorry for breaking my Rammstein title streak :/

"Vodka."

Eric's voice is loud and clear, but Dylan doesn't look away from the TV — they're about halfway through _The Seasoning House_. He brings a handful of popcorn to his mouth instead, trying not to smile when he hears Eric huff irritably. The plastic underneath them crinkles as Eric shifts his weight the way he's been doing for the past fifteen minutes or so.

"Dylan," Eric tries, but it still goes unanswered. They both know what Dylan is waiting to hear; Eric is just being stubborn. Eric sighs again, shifting in his seat. Without looking, Dylan reaches out and settles a hand on Eric's knee. His grip is tight, and Eric stills immediately.

He's quiet for about three minutes before he caves. In a very quiet voice, Eric mutters, "Daddy. Please. I gotta fucking go."

This time, Dylan answers. He says, quite simply: "No."

Eric starts to curse, but cuts himself off; the show of self-discipline makes Dylan smile. He tries to squirm again afterward, but this time, Dylan brings his flat palm down hard on Eric's bare thigh. Eric yelps and goes still again. Dylan's hand remains settled just below the hem of Eric's boxers, fingers curled around his thigh.

"Daddy..." Eric tries again after a minute or so, and this time, Dylan looks over. He's briefly distracted by how pretty Eric looks — flushed and desperate, teeth sunk into his lower lip, eyes glossy with unshed tears — but recovers quickly enough to interrupt whatever Eric is about to say.

"No, baby girl. Not 'til the movie is over. You can wait." Dylan smiles and gives Eric's cheek a firm pat, which makes him flinch and scowl. He quickly schools his expression into something else a moment later, though. Dylan thinks it's an attempt at pouty and seductive, but it looks so out of place on Eric's face that he laughs. He watches as Eric's cheeks flush an even deeper shade of pink; watches his brow furrow and his lips twitch down into another scowl.

Embarrassment looks more natural on him. Looks good.

"Fuck off," Eric snaps, giving Dylan's shoulder a shove.

Dylan smirks at him and, without warning, grabs him by the hips. Before Eric can do anything but make a rather undignified squawking noise at being manhandled, Dylan hauls him over and into his lap. He struggles, at first, but Dylan's arms wrap tightly around his waist. When Dylan presses on his bladder a little, Eric quickly goes still, thighs pressing together. Something akin to a whimper escapes his lips. Dylan rests his chin on Eric's shoulder and finally looks back to the TV screen.

"Hurts," Eric hisses through clenched teeth a few moments later. "I can't, I — I have to go, fuck. V, come _on!_ "

"Mm. No. You can't miss this part of the movie, Reb. Look." Dylan grabs his chin with one hand and turns his face toward the TV screen. Eric inhales sharply, but doesn't try to jerk away. Onscreen, there's a man drilling into a much smaller girl. She's sobbing beneath him, screaming, trying to get away.

Dylan turns his head to whisper against Eric's ear. "I'm gonna do that to you, baby girl." He feels Eric shudder at the words, feels his muscles contract. "But first..."

He presses on Eric's bladder again.

"Wait, Dylan, don't—" Eric starts. Dylan can tell when he finally lets go, because he trails off into a gasp that sounds like relief, mortification, and disbelief all at once.

Dylan shoves a hand down Eric's boxers as soon as he feels the warm wetness seep into his own jeans. Eric whines as Dylan takes him in hand, a steady stream of piss still soaking into the fabric of his boxers, dripping down his thighs, spilling over Dylan's hand. Dylan bites into the side of Eric's neck as he starts to stroke him; Eric's hips jerk up into his grasp, panting and whining, lost in the dual sensations of finally emptying his bladder and finally being touched.

"God, you're beautiful like this. You know that? I'm gonna fucking ruin you," Dylan whispers against Eric's skin. The stream of piss slows to a trickle; Dylan jerks Eric's cock faster. "Can't believe you pissed yourself just because I told you to. You act like you're so fucking tough all the time, but that's not true, is it? You'd do anything I told you to, wouldn't you?"

Eric just whines, and Dylan raises his free hand to slap his cheek, then grabs his chin again. "I asked you a question, baby girl. Answer me."

"Yes, fuck, yes," Eric gasps, arching his back against Dylan's chest. "Fuck you, _yes_ , you know I would. Can I fucking come? I'm so close—"

"Mm. I dunno." Dylan tugs at Eric's earlobe with his teeth. "Ask nicely."

"Fuck off!" Eric hisses. Dylan squeezes his cock just once, hard enough that Eric takes it for the warning that it is. He keens, bucking his hips up again, and quickly corrects his attitude. "Fine, fuck, please, _please_ let me come—"

"Let you come, who?" Dylan persists, and Eric swears at him again. Dylan slows his strokes. "Who?" he repeats.

"Daddy, _please,_ " Eric begs, sounding utterly wrecked.

"Alright. Alright, sweetheart, you can come for me," Dylan relents, and resumes a much faster pace of jerking Eric's cock. He comes just a few seconds later as if on command, throwing his head back against Dylan's shoulder. Tears leak out of the corners of his eyes at the intensity of it.

Dylan releases Eric's cock and rubs his side with his clean hand, dropping a kiss to Eric's shoulder. "You good?" Dylan murmurs, and Eric nods absently, blinking his wet eyes rapidly. "Say something, Reb."

"'M fine. Fuck." Eric sniffs and sits up a little straighter, turning to look over his shoulder. "Did you want..."

Dylan shakes his head, smiling. "This wasn't about me," he says, cupping Eric's cheek and guiding him into a brief, soft kiss. "Let's clean up and take a shower, yeah? Then I'll order pizza."

"Mm." Eric looks down at the mess in his lap and wrinkles his nose. "God, this is fucking gross. You're a freak, you know that?"

Dylan laughs, unbothered.

"You're the one who just came."


End file.
